covered the Three Thorns of Carlinwark, now deeply
stained with rose colour from the clouds of sunset.

[Illustration: WILLIAM OF DOUGLAS REINED UP DARNAWAY UNDERNEATH
THE WHISPERING FOLIAGE OF A GREAT BEECH.]

"Aye, aye," he said, "the Douglas badge is indeed a heart--but it is a
bleeding heart. God avert the omen, and keep this young man safe--for
though many love him, there be more that would rejoice at his fall."

The rider on Black Darnaway rode right into the saffron eye of the
sunset. On his left hand Carlinwark and its many islets burned rich
with spring-green foliage, all splashed with the golden sunset light.
Darnaway's well-shod hoofs sent the diamond drops flying, as, with
obvious pleasure, he trampled through the shallows. Ben Gairn and
Screel, boldly ridged against the southern horizon, stood out in dark
amethyst against the glowing sky of even, but the young rider never so
much as turned his head to look at them.

Presently, however, he emerged from among the noble lakeside trees
upon a more open space. Broom and whin blossom clustered yellow and
orange beneath him, garrisoning with their green spears and golden
banners every knoll and scaur. But there were broad spaces of turf
here and there on which the conies fed, or fought terrible battles for
the meek ear-twitching does, "spat-spatting" at each other with their
fore paws and springing into the air in their mating fury.

William of Douglas reined up Darnaway underneath the whispering
foliage of a great beech, for all at unawares he had come upon a sight
that interested him more than the noble prospect of the May sunset.

In the centre of the golden glade, and with all their faces mistily
glorified by the evening light, he saw a group of little girls,
singing and dancing as they performed some quaint and graceful
pageant of childhood.

Their young voices came up to him with a wistful, dying fall, and the
slow, graceful movement of the rhythmic dance seemed to affect the
young man strangely. Involuntarily he lifted his close-fitting
feathered cap from his head, and allowed the cool airs to blow against
his brow.

_"See the robbers passing by, passing by, passing by,
See the robbers passing by,
My fair lady!"_

The ancient words came up clearly and distinctly to him, and softened
his heart with the indefinable and exquisite pathos of the refrain
whenever it is sung by the sweet voi